It was exactly how Geoff pictured the end of the world, but he never thought he'd be alive to bear witness.
"Hang on for a second," Eric said. "I'm going to make sure the coast is clear." He mounted the steps of a sturdy brick house and slowly opened the front door, disappearing inside.
"Stacy," Geoff said soothingly. "Just stay with me, baby. This will all be over soon. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you."
"I want to go back to the car," she replied. "I'm going to sleep the whole way home."
"Just a little longer. We'll be going back soon."
"I don't want to ride with Trina, okay? Her voice goes right through me."
"Trina and Romeo are already gone." He fought the urge to break into tears. He swallowed hard and inhaled a shaky breath. "It's only you and me now."
"Probably for the best," Stacy said.
Her eyes kept fluttering shut as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. If Geoff didn't let her rest soon, she would only slow them down. At least they were in one piece, and they were together. Everything else could be taken one step at a time.
Eric opened the house's front door and stepped onto the porch. "It's safe. Just stay out of the kitchen."
Geoff looked up and down the street to make sure they weren't being watched. He was confident that nosy neighbors wouldn't be a problem, but being trapped inside with demon-rats was another story. The street was empty. He followed Eric inside and closed the door behind him. Stacy grinned and clapped her hands as she bee-lined for the couch. She flopped down face first and began snoring immediately.
"There's something wrong with her," Geoff said. "I don't know what, but she's not right."
"Can you blame her?"
Geoff crossed the room and sat in the recliner, wishing he too could take a quick nap. He wrinkled his nose at the foul stink emanating from the kitchen doorway: blood and shit and something even more repulsive he couldn't identify; something dark and foul and wild.
"They were in here? The rats?"
Eric nodded. "You don't want to go in there."
"Why does this thing hate us so much? Why does it get off on watching us be ripped to shreds?"
"Jealousy. It wants to rule the universe, but humans are in the way. Our happiness drives it crazy."
"And it can't be killed?"
"I don't know. We tried and failed. It just keeps coming back, waiting until it's strong enough to begin feeding again."
"That house is its safe place?"
"One of them. People have a strange fascination with abandoned places. We wonder if memories remain, or if the ghosts of those who once lived there still walk the halls. It's one of our downfalls; our need to be close to the unexplained. The Skryel uses our curiosity against us, waiting until we're alone to strike. That house is like a Halloween attraction, except instead of buying a ticket, you pay with your life."
"But you and your friends didn't know anything about it. How did it find you?"
"It found Danny in his dreams. It couldn't hurt him there, but as the summer went on we all felt it, hiding in the shadows, waiting for us in the old schoolhouse on Market Street and the shoe factory on Dutch Hill. The stronger the Skryel became, the easier it was for it to pull us into other realities, to scare us, to try to tear us apart. Danny had no idea he was a doorway for the monster. We were teenagers. All we wanted was to have fun over summer vacation before we ran out of summer vacations. We didn't know anything about this; all we knew were sleepovers and trips to the park, video games and air hockey at the arcade. Friends are supposed to last forever..."
Geoff looked over sadly as Eric's voice broke. He had to remind himself that Eric was still a kid. No matter what he'd seen and what he'd been through, there was still a little boy trapped in there that wanted nothing more than to see his friends again and be able to ride his bike with the wind in his hair and an open road ahead of him.
Geoff stood and knelt in front of him as Eric's tears spilled down his face.
He's just a kid. A boy that never had a chance to grow up and live a normal life.
Eric wrapped his arms around Geoff and cried into his chest. His wracking sobs hurt Geoff's heart, but there was nothing he could say. The boy had been through more than anyone could understand. All Geoff could do was let him shed his tears and hope that being here with him was enough. He hugged the boy in return, patting his back and tussling his tangled mop of blond hair.
Geoff cleared his throat. "I'm sorry this happened to you, I really am. It's an impossible situation."
Eric stepped away and wiped his face with his shirt. Layers of hidden strength and courage shone from the watery depths of his eyes. He walked over to the wall and gazed at the framed photos hanging there: a happy little girl in pigtails smiling up at her father, a soapy Doberman in a bathtub, an adult couple walking hand-in-hand on a sunny beach. Photos of a family that died without even knowing why. Their torn corpses lie on the linoleum floor in the kitchen, their shocked faces frozen and covered in each other's blood.
He lashed out and swept the photos from the wall, knocking them to the carpet and growling like a cornered Pitbull.
"I'm not going to let this happen again!" he bellowed. "So much death... all for nothing." He stomped on the fallen pictures, smashing the glass and grinding it beneath his feet. "I'll stop this goddamn thing if it's the last thing I ever do. Do you hear me, Shadowking? I will fucking kill you! For Danny! For Brent! For Samantha! For Charlie! For my parents, and for Elmview, and for everyone you've ever hurt."
"For Romeo," Geoff added. "For Trina, for Dink, for Beth, Roger, and Lisa. For us!"
"For us," Eric agreed.
"What's all the shouting about?" Stacy asked groggily as she sat up and wiped her bloodshot eyes.
Geoff opened his mouth to answer when the front window exploded in a shower of glass. A giant rat - the largest they'd seen yet - struggled to its feet and watched them with beady, red eyes. It shook its body like a wet dog, spraying the walls and floor with bloody slime. It opened its mouth and growled as a chewed finger tumbled from its jaws.
Its guttural croaks became broken language.
"The boy... and his new friends."
Stacy screamed.
"I'm going to... enjoy... the taste of... your beating hearts."
"You just try it, you cliched cocksucker!" Geoff yelled.
"That's right. Stand up for the boy... you'll be the first to go."
"He won't kill you," Eric said. "You're a doorway; he needs you."
"You think he's the only one? Your precious friend... Danny... he's still out there."
"Danny will never give in to you! Didn't you learn the last time? He'll fight you," Eric said.
"He doesn't have you at his side," the rat growled. "He doesn't have Brent... or his little whore. He doesn't have the Guardian."
Geoff jumped as a furry blur brushed by his leg. He pulled Eric back and thrust him aside, standing in front of him protectively. In his real life, he never would've done something so stupid or so brave. He acted automatically as if his muscles had been primed for that very reason. Eric grabbed Stacy's hand and yanked her from the couch.
What at first Geoff thought to be another abomination was nothing of the sort, but rather the large Doberman from the photo. It bounded across the room and tackled the rat to the floor, sinking its teeth into the creature's throat. They rolled on the floor in a spreading pool of blood as they ripped each other apart. Geoff couldn't pry his eyes away from the most fucked up thing he'd ever seen. He stood frozen, listening to Eric's frenzied cries behind him.
"We have to go! Now!"
Geoff backed away slowly as the Doberman got the upper hand, tearing out the rat's throat and ripping the flesh away like Velcro. The rat hissed a final time before growing still.
"Good boy," Geoff said.
The dog wagged its nub twice before falling over dead.
"Man's best friend."
"He bought us time," Eric said. "Now let's go befor
e more of them show up."
He turned and followed Eric and Stacy into the kitchen where the dog's masters lie broken and bleeding on the floor. The man's head had been nearly chewed free from his neck. They walked along the wall, keeping out of the sticky layer of crimson liquid. Geoff had never seen so much blood in one place before, at least not outside of a horror movie. The smell burrowed deep into his sinuses, making him gag. Stacy barely noticed.
"Out the back," Eric called. "I think I can shift us soon."
"Shift us?"
"Get us the fuck out of here!"
"Anywhere but here," Geoff replied. "Anywhere without rats."
"I can't promise somewhere else is going to be any better."
"I'll take my chances."
They climbed down the rear steps and ran across the yard to the street behind the house. Stacy stopped abruptly at the fence and pointed up at the hill in the distance.
"Look, we're back," she said cheerily.
Geoff felt his energy drain. He wished he could share in her excitement, but all he felt was dread.
The house was no longer on Two-Penny Lane. It stood on the hill, overlooking Elmview like a gray, watching eye. Everything around it was on fire, but the house remained untouched. Ash fell to the ground and skated across the lawn like autumn leaves.
"Back in its rightful place," Eric whispered.
"You mean it can follow us?"
The boy nodded. "We haven't seen the last of it. I have a feeling wherever we go, the house and its new owner won't be far behind."
Chapter 9
Geoff opened the gate and ran into the street, careful to step around the torn remains of a tattooed arm. Clouds of flies feasted merrily on the buffet of human flesh scattered across the asphalt. Although he hadn't seen or heard the massacre that had happened here, the evidence was piled up all around him.
He cried out as Eric grabbed his hand and stepped closer.
"Close your eyes and don't let go."
"Please tell me we're getting the fuck out of here."
"We're getting the fuck out of here."
The air grew heavy, the light dimmed, and the well-defined edges of his surroundings grew blurry. He squeezed his eyes shut, felt a nauseating motion, and collapsed to the street. Only it wasn't a street, but dry, hard-packed dirt. He opened his eyes, hissing at the light. The ground spun beneath him. He let go of Eric's hand, clutched his stomach, and vomited into the dust. Far away, he heard Stacy following his lead.
"There has to be a better way..." he began, before being interrupted by another bout of vomiting. "There has to be a better way to travel."
"There is no other way," Eric explained. "It's either puke a little or be eaten by rats, and I don't think you're ready for that."
Geoff shook his head and stood. "Not even close." He walked over to where Stacy sat in the dirt and knelt beside her. "Are you okay? Can you get up?"
"I think so." Her voice was nearly inaudible. "I don't feel so good."
He ran a calming hand over Stacy's shoulder, concerned by the heat radiating from her dry skin. He looked to Eric questioningly, but the boy only shook his head.
"Not now."
Geoff stood and surveyed their surroundings, struck by the very emptiness of this place.
"Where are we?"
"Same place, different time."
"This is... Elmview?"
"It used to be. What's important is that we're alone for now."
"For now? That thing is going to find us?"
"It'll follow us to the edge of the universe if it has to. That's why we have to keep moving."
Geoff scuffed his foot in the dust, revealing the section of road that had been buried beneath. He recognized the valley where Elmview had once stood; the contour of the mountains hadn't changed, but the lush greenery had been replaced by broken, rotting trees and dry, cracked earth. Everything was coated in a thick layer of yellow dust, like ancient settlements buried beneath the desert sand. Here and there were scattered piles of scorched brick and the battered criss-cross patterns of rusted chain-link fences. Bent pipes jutted from the ground amidst patches of dead grass, and a blackened toilet - baked in some long-ago fire - sat on a crumbling sidewalk in front of the remains of a collapsed home.
The Apocalypse had visited this Elmview as well.
"Now what?" Geoff asked. "There's not even a place to hide."
"With any luck, we won't have to. There's nothing here for the Skryel to destroy. If there's anyone left, they've probably moved underground."
"Let's hope we won't be running into any of them."
Eric walked ahead, kicking up dust as he did his best to stay in the center of the buried boulevard. He used the sight of splintered telephone poles to keep his bearings; he looked at piles of debris sadly as a shadow crossed his face. As insane as all this was to Geoff and Stacy, it was even worse for Eric. He'd played on these streets... saw his friends die on them. Geoff watched carefully as the boy scanned the area; he wondered what Eric was seeing in that tortured landscape.
"There used to be a record store right here," he called over his shoulder. "My friend Brent hung out there a lot. He would save his allowance for weeks just so he could add another album to his collection."
"I keep my music on my iPod," Geoff replied. "I can listen to it on my cell phone whenever I want."
Eric shrugged, looking confused.
"Oh, sorry, never mind."
Stacy's only input was to begin humming a song Geoff instantly recognized. At least she was showing some signs of life.
"Bon Jovi!" Eric exclaimed. "It seems like a million years since I've heard that."
"You know Bon Jovi?" Geoff asked.
"Of course, who doesn't? My sister listens to it all the time. Listened to it."
Geoff still had his phone tucked in his back pocket but frowned when he remembered the battery was dead. He'd give anything for a charger... just to see the boy's eyes light up again.
"Why don't you just stop moving around and go to a place where your friends are still alive. Why keep torturing yourself?"
"It's not safe," he replied. "The Skryel is always looking for me. If I did that - just to make myself feel better - I'd be risking their lives and the lives of everyone on the planet. If my other self had already died in that reality, what would they say when I showed up on their doorstep? I'd be like a zombie!"
"But that man, Ben. The Guardian. You said he stayed in your world."
"He did, but he was never human to begin with. The rules aren't the same for him."
"I hate how fucking stupid this all makes me feel."
"Understanding won't make you feel better. It won't bring your friends back. It'll just get inside you and make you crazy."
Stacy stopped humming and stared off across the wasteland. "I'm so tired."
"Me too, baby. We'll rest soon. Just a little longer."
He hated lying to her, but what else could he do? If it made her comfortable until they could get home and sleep in their own bed, so be it. He hoped getting home was still an option.
***
After an hour in the baking sun, they reached a part of town that was still mainly intact. The rusted hulks of cars and trucks lined the street; empty windows followed their slow progress.
"I've been through the desert on a horse with no name," Stacy sang.
"America? No," Geoff interrupted. "Just... no."
"You're no fun." She kicked at the dust and pouted playfully. "You sing something."
"I don't want to sing, Stacy. We don't know who or what can hear us."
When he caught a whiff of wood smoke, he stopped in the street and put a hand over his mouth. Eric also smelled it; he knelt down and scanned the abandoned neighborhood, seeing a single, thin column of black smoke rising from behind the partial ruin of an old church. He pointed and waited for Geoff to acknowledge him. The smoke was as plain as day; he felt silly for having not seen it sooner.
The stone church stood ba
ck from the road on a plot of ground once bedecked in colorful flowers and manicured hedges. A centrally located, stained glass window sat beneath a crumbling belfry; all the others had been covered in scrap wood and appeared to have been painted black. A large cross stood crookedly in front of the building, jutting from the hardpan at an angle. The walkway and stairs leading to the large double doors looked to have been recently swept clean of the encroaching layer of dust that covered the rest of the town.
Geoff held his breath as he heard the muffled thud of footsteps from within.
"Someone's in there," he whispered.
"No shit!" Eric exclaimed.
They can't see us, anyway, Geoff thought. He was about to remind Eric of this detail when a crouched, elderly woman rounded the corner of the church and pointed directly at them.
"You there," she croaked. "What are you doing skulking around in the street?"
"Why can she see us?" Geoff asked. "You said no one could see us."
"I don't know... I don't understand."
With their cover blown, Geoff stood straight and politely waved at the woman as she waddled toward the curb.
If she even thinks of coming over, Geoff thought, I'll punch that old bitch in the face.
He immediately regretted his harsh thoughts; this was the first person they'd seen in a while that wasn't running, screaming, or bleeding out on the ground.
"You might as well come over here and let me take a look at you," she said. "No sense standing there with your mouths open."
"What do we do?" Geoff asked.
"Check it out," he replied, "but be careful. Something smells... fishy."
With great trepidation, Geoff followed Eric's lead, pulling Stacy along behind him. They stopped at the curb, eying the woman suspiciously. Her tattered dress was threadbare, exposing more of her pasty flesh than Geoff had ever wanted to see. It became evident that undergarments didn't exist in this dying world; the woman's gigantic breasts threatened to burst through the last two remaining buttons on her blouse. Eric looked away embarrassed, dancing from one foot to the other. The woman saw this and chuckled.
The Traveler (The Great Rift Book 2) Page 14